


Trust Your Peace To My Beating Palms

by GreenQueenofClubs



Series: Broken Hands, Reaching [3]
Category: Alex Rider (TV 2020), Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alex!POV, Established Relationship, M/M, They love each other very much yall, but this only exists because I couldn't keep the smut out of my head, the technicality being that i dont shut up, this also takes place a few years after Burning so, this isnt pwp by a technicality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenQueenofClubs/pseuds/GreenQueenofClubs
Summary: The greatest prize at the end of a long mission wasn't MI6's money, or their praise, or England's safety.It was the privilege to loose himself into Yassen.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Series: Broken Hands, Reaching [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106729
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77





	Trust Your Peace To My Beating Palms

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Burning a Dead Man's Fingertips, but it can probably be read separately!

If one more middle-aged woman patted him on the cheek or made ‘subtle’ allusions to her boring sex life, Alex might actually start snapping. Even if it meant irritating Yassen. The man was too busy schmoozing with the ring leaders to pay attention anyway, leaving Alex to mingle with the rest of the arm candy and trophy wifes. After three months of joining their soirees and get-togethers at least twice a week, supplemented by a healthy dose of not-quite-legal surveillance, Alex was intimate with the complicated web of alliances, affairs and feuds that spread over the room. 

At this very moment he could see Catherine riling up Jane about her husband’s business failure, Jane 2 had disappeared with one of the waiters, and Mrs Ainsworth was well beyond tipsy, hanging gracelessly onto a potted plant.

It all did very little to alleviate his boredom.

Making small talk about the most recent economic disturbances, because that spared him from talking about the weather, Alex scanned the room again. They had no reason to expect trouble, but Alex had one job to do, and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least do that much. Well, two jobs, he supposed:

1 - Watch Yassen’s back.   
2- Look young and pretty enough to prop their cover up. 

Wearing a tight burgundy shirt, with the two top buttons popped off, well tailored pants that hugged his ass just so, and a blasé attitude, Alex was the picture of the young socialite that got dragged to yet another uninteresting event by his boyfriend/sugar daddy.

As far as anyone of importance in the room was aware, ‘Thomas Archer’ knew nothing of his boyfriend’s activities, beyond that it made him a lot of money, and was only present at every event because ‘Gregory Carr’ liked to show him off.

Risking a glance at Yassen, Alex wondered why anyone would think  _ he’ _ d need to pay for company. Yassen cut a striking figure in a beautiful dark blue three piece suit, his greying temples just visible enough against his pale hair to lend him a distinguished air. The rest of the men around him seemed drab and unkempt in comparison.

Alex quashed the wave of affection that bloomed in his chest before it could show on his face. Thomas didn’t care about Gregory, he cared about his money. 

Sighing artfully, he twisted his wrist to look at the time.

Ten more minutes, and they could leave.

“Bored, Thomas?” Angelica asked. She was an attractive woman in her late twenties, with long rich brown hair. She also was one of the most palatable of the group of women Alex had had to fit himself into, more self-aware than most of them, and ambitious rather than greedy.

Alex hummed noncommittally and shrugged, casting a dissatisfied look at Yassen in explanation.

“They do like to talk, don’t they? David can yap with his friends for hours, until he remembers I exist.”

“But god forbid we do the same, right?” Alex muttered.

“Yes! I spent two minutes too long chatting with my friends, and I’m  _ neglecting  _ him _.  _ And he’s usually so tired after these things he goes straight to bed. I swear it’s been a week since I had a good fuck.” She groused, taking a long sip of her champagne flute.

Alex snickered but didn’t answer. He wondered what Angelica would say if she learnt it had been almost three months since he had gotten as much as a decent make-out session, let alone ‘a good fuck’. 

Yassen never had sex on deep cover missions. He didn’t like how distracted it made the both of them, nor the chances of slipping out of character somewhere they could be watched or heard. They rarely even slept at the same time, taking watch to make sure someone was always on alert in case something happened or someone came looking for them.

Which meant three months without getting his hands on a naked Yassen Gregorovich. Sometimes, Alex wondered how he had stood the constant, background noise of desire for two years, before they had gotten their act together. Nevermind the pining, the horniness should have killed him.

Five minutes.

Yassen turned his head ever so slightly, and Alex could feel his gaze on him, checking in discreetly. He twirled his fingers, a signal only Yassen would catch, and his partner turned back to the man he had been talking with.

Under the pretence of grabbing another glass of wine, Alex drifted away from Angelica, closer to the doors of the large reception room.

Walking by a window, he spied movement between the bushes, and was glad no one in the room was paying attention to the courtyard.

Still. Amateurs.

One minute.

He caught a waiter with a platter of appetizers and snatched a few of them, for the road. The night might go long, there was no need to be any hungrier than necessary. Hearing the first clatters and door being slammed open, Alex downed his glass of wine and prepared his best confused expression.

_ ‘Why no, officer, I had no idea my sugar daddy and his buddies were drug traffickers! I’m a dumb blond that wears hideous expensive sneakers because I think that’’ll make me interesting!’ _

The doors to the room burst open, and a dozen people in full protective gear ran in, batons and tasers at the ready.

Screams burst all around him, but Alex contented himself with gaping stupidly. 

Within minutes, all the important people had been rounded up in armored vehicles, to be brought to the higher-security facility, while the others, Alex included, were stuffed into police cars and brought to the local precinct. 

MI6 would come to pick up their own targets, two members of the inner circles that had been involved in a large operation targeting a member of parliament, later, once the dust had settled. Local law enforcement would get all the credits, Mrs Jones would get her intel, Alex would get to go home.

Winners all around. 

Two hours after being brought to the precinct, Alex was discreetly smuggled out of the building’s back door, close to an unmarked company car he pretended to steal.

Free at last.

* * *

Their safe house was a small but cosy thing on the edge of town. Close enough that they could be called back in if the police or MI6 let some of their prisoners slip, and needed them to reprise their roles. Far enough to be inconspicuous and lose whatever tail Alex might have picked up during his exit from the police building.

After nearly an hour of careful driving in his ‘stolen’ car, Alex finally slipped in the door, closing it with a small relieved sigh. He had gotten used to longer undercover work over the years, but there would always be a very particular relief when he finally could slip out of his cover and just be Alex again.

A small huff of laughter shot a thrill to his gut, and he lazily rolled his head to catch Yassen’s eyes. The man had obviously been in the house long enough to make himself comfortable, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, long fingers already holding his customary post-mission glass of whisky. 

His black bow tie was undone, hanging on either side of his throat, perfectly framing the tantalising peak of his chest that had been artfully revealed by undoing his top three buttons. Alex almost swayed under the force of the shockwave of desire that burned through him. His mouth watered. His fingers itched. His gut caught fire. 

Three months was a  _ very  _ long time.

Reading Alex like a book, Yassen arched a smug eyebrow, casually taking a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving Alex, still standing by the door. 

Skin delightfully tight, Alex strutted over to him, the pressure of Yassen’s sharp blue gaze intensifying with every step. His lover lowered his glass when he got close, and didn’t resist when Alex stole it out of his hand, taking a sip himself. The alcohol burned down his throat, something he had never quite managed to enjoy, but it was negligible when Yassen’s eyes drifted to his lips and his throat as he drank.

Only when Alex dropped the still half-full glass on the side table did Yassen move, stepping close enough that they shared the same air. One of his hands reached out, ghosting from Alex’s hip up his back, trailing goosebumps in its wake.

It finally settled around Alex’s jaw, palm up, not quite holding, long cool fingers framing his throat. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and lean into the touch with a sigh. Alex never felt delicate except when Yassen held him like that, like a precious piece of art that he was, against all odds, allowed to touch. 

Which was an accomplishment, considering this was the same man that had fucked Alex senseless too many times to count, bent over whatever piece of furniture he could make work. 

Yassen Gregorovich was a man of many depths, and Alex cherished almost all of them.

“Considering your options?” He asked in a low voice, unwilling to break the vibrating stillness Yassen seemed to have cultivated.

"Savouring the anticipation.” Yassen answered smoothly, his thumb idly caressing over Alex’s jawline.

“Wanker.”

Yassen smiled sharply, eyes crawling back to Alex’s.

“Impatient.”

“It’s been almost three months, honey bear, you should be glad either of us is still clothed.”

Yassen’s mouth curled in vague disgust but he took the pet name for the threat it was. Leaning closer, not dropping his hand, he trailed his lips from the corner of Alex’s lips to his cheekbone, to his ear. 

“I missed you.” He whispered, his other arm wrapping itself around Alex’s waist. 

“Missed you too.” Alex answered, sinking his fingers into Yassen’s hair, shivering as warm air puffed against his neck.

“What do you want?” Alex knew Yassen well enough to tell he had his own plans, laid out in careful, exact kisses to his throat. He also knew Yassen would drop all of them if Alex had other ideas.

“Anything.” 

“Dangerous.”

“Danger is my middle name.”

Yassen snorted, hand sliding from Alex’s jaw to his neck to drag him into a deep, breath-stealing kiss.

“Regrettably.” He finally answered when he let the both of them part for air. His usually pale cheeks were beautifully flushed, and Alex bent down to press his face against them, relishing the warmth and Yassen’s intoxicating scent.

Yassen’s fingers bunched into his shirt, pushing the both of them closer together, chasing Alex’s lips. Without needing to look, he navigated the both of them back into the living room, avoiding gracefully the furniture's sharp corners. Trusting Yassen with his chins, Alex focused on licking into his mouth and dragging those delightful little grunts Yassen never managed to stifle.

The back of his knees hit the couch, and at Yassen’s gentle push, he sat down. Disappointingly, Yassen didn’t follow him right away, standing above Alex. Instead, he reached for Alex’s face again, but he intercepted the hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm.

“Alex…” He breathed fondly.

“Gonna get a move on, old man?”

Sighing exaggeratedly, Yassen started unbuckling his belt with his usual precise movements. It probably shouldn’t be alluring, but Alex was very biased in his favour. Leaning forward, he pulled Yassen’s shirt out of his waistband and deftly undid his buttons from the bottom up.

“Perhaps you should focus on your own clothes, Саша.”

“Hm, but then again…” Alex mused, leaning forward to bite Yassen’s abdomen. “Maybe not.”

Yassen pressed Alex back firmly, bending to slide his trousers and briefs down his legs. In one smooth motion, he stepped out of them and slid on Alex’s lap. A jolt of lightning shot right to Alex’s groin, and he attacked the last couple of buttons with renewed vigour. He needed Yassen fully naked, and he needed it five minutes ago. Yassen complied, remaining still long enough for Alex to push his button-down off his shoulder and grab his buttocks before he shifted forward, attaching himself to the soft skin under Alex’s jaw.

Fingers digging into the tight muscles of Yassen’s ass, Alex’s hips twitched up, trying to find some friction for his rapidly hardening cock. Yassen’s lips trailed down Alex’s jaw to catch his mouth again, fingers dancing down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt deftly. Long fingers slipped under the fabric, caressing at the edge of Alex’s muscles, teasing his nipples, tracing scars he knew by heart.

Leaning forward to help Yassen remove his shirt, Alex was once again firmly pressed back on the couch, still clothed. 

“The color looks good on you.” Yassen explained, nipping at his bottom lip. Alex simply hummed, enjoying the contrast of feeling Yassen’s chest both through fine fabric and against his bare skin.

Pushing his forehead against Alex’s, Yassen stretched a hand to the side table, and found a small tube Alex recognized. He snorted, which he softened with a peck at the corner of Yassen’s mouth.

“You know what I like about you, Yassen? Your spontaneity." Alex joked, as Yassen uncapped the lube.

“Would you rather I had to retrieve it from my suitcase?”

“Nope. I’m good.” Alex squeezed Yassen’s ass again in emphasis.

Yassen smiled down at him, and kissed Alex’s mouth chastely as he poured some of the lube on his fingers, warming it up. Alex leaned back against the couch cushion, watching the furrow of concentration appear between Yassen’s eyebrows as he reached behind himself. Only the slight shift in Yassen’s arm told him he had pushed a first finger in. His lover had not made a sound.

“Can I help?” Alex asked softly, not pushing. 

Yassen still wasn’t always comfortable with this kind of intimacy, with letting Alex finger him. It was something about leaving himself exposed and vulnerable, with Alex only focused on him and his pleasure. If he had thought he had the time, he would have probably prepared himself before Alex even got to the safehouse.

The arm stilled, and Yassen hesitated for a few seconds, looking away from Alex. Then he nodded jerkily, pushing the lube in Alex’s palm. As Alex poured the lube on his own fingers, Yassen wrapped his arm around his shoulders, breaths carefully measured.

Alex didn’t bother asking if he was okay, or if he was sure. Yassen had made up his mind, and wouldn’t take well to being coddled.

Gently, he trailed his hand to Yassen’s entrance, mindful not to surprise him, and pushed one finger in. With Yassen’s previous efforts, there was no resistance. Yassen didn’t tense, didn’t make a sound, but pressed his cheekbone to Alex’s temple. Taking it as a good sign, Alex pushed his finger in and out until he felt Yassen relax fully against him. Only then did Alex pull his finger out and added a second one, kissing Yassen’s hair as he slid them in. There was a slight hitch in Yassen’s breath, and he was probably frowning, but he didn’t twitch or protest, so Alex didn’t stop.

He settled into a rhythm, pushing in and out and scissoring his fingers until Yassen finally started rocking against his hand, fingers flexing against Alex’s shoulders. Without giving warning, Alex shifted his hand and curled his fingers into Yassen’s prostate. His lover’s groan sounded as if it had been punched out, and he arched into Alex’s hand.

Fuzzy warmth exploded into Alex’s chest, cutting through the single-minded focus on Yassen’s every reactions he had sunk into.

“I love you.” He whispered happily into Yassen’s hair. 

Yassen cursed him out half-heartedly in Russian, fingers digging into the meat of Alex’s arm, making him giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting on with it, old bastard.”

After a few more prod to Yassen’s prostate, just because he liked to hear Yassen try and fail to mute his soft moans, he added a third finger. This time, Yassen didn’t even hesitate, melting against Alex as he stretched him wide enough to take his cock. 

Alex might have liked a slight sting when Yassen took him when he was in the proper mood, but Yassen didn’t. Yassen liked to be fucked smoothly and languorously.

He only stopped when Yassen pushed himself off of his chest, tugging at his arm. Finger slipping out of Yassen’s asshole, Alex gaped up at his lover. His pupils were so blown the icy blue was almost invisible, and his flush stretched far down, painting his pale shoulders and chest a beautiful shade of red.

His cock wasn’t fully hard, but then, Alex’s hadn’t been either, ten seconds ago. Yassen’s hungry gaze was doing wonders to remediate that situation.

Without hesitating, Yassen attacked Alex’s trousers, unzipping them and tugging both them and Alex’s underwear down just enough to pull out his cock. 

It seemed like he wasn’t going to get any clothes off, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would ruin his entire wardrobe if it meant he’d get in Yassen a single second earlier. His cock was already straining in Yassen’s hands as he spread lube in quick, efficient movements. 

Alex, ever willing to lead by example,  _ didn’t  _ try to stop his moans as Yassen finished preparing him, and scooted so he lined up the rigid cock to his entrance.

He stopped for a second, hovering on top of Alex’s lap, one hand on Alex’s cock, the other braced on the back of the couch over his right shoulder. His eyes found Alex’s, and this time he didn’t look away, pining his lover with his gaze as he sunk down, millimeter by excruciating millimeter.

Alex didn’t move, hands wrapped around Yassen’s hips, mostly for moral support. The man certainly didn’t need his help for  _ balance. _

Neither of them breathed until Yassen was back snug in Alex’s lap. If it wasn’t for Yassen’s unyielding gaze refusing to let him look away, Alex might have gotten lost in the soft, tight, wet heat around him, in Yassen’s scent, in the minute shift of muscles under his palm.

But he wasn’t. Yassen demanded that he be with him in this moment, and Alex would have given this man anything he asked. And anything he didn’t dare to.

Yassen must have read something in his expression, because exhaled loudly, his newly freed hand settling at the top of Alex’s left pectoral, long finger barely brushing the base of his throat. He could no doubt feel Alex’s thundering heartbeat.

Alex smiled up at him.

“Hey there.”

Yassen’s answering smile brimmed with impossible fondness, and Alex wondered if he noticed his heartbreak speeding up.

Probably.

“Alex.” Yassen whispered, and finally, he started to move.

Yassen rode Alex with the same gusto he enjoyed his favorite meals: delicately, with rapturous precision, and as if wasting a single drop of pleasure would be an unforgivable offense. Alex leaned back, fingers now splayed on his flexing thighs, happy to be savoured, incapable of looking away. Yassen’s gaze was hidden behind heavy lids, but Alex was transfixed.

Yassen was graceful walking down the street on a dreary, wet London day. Bouncing on Alex’s cock in the warm evening light, he looked more than human, sensual and infinite. 

Heat and pressure build up in burst in Alex’s groin, and soon he couldn’t help himself from bucking into Yassen, tilting his lover of kilter for a few beats until they found their rhythm again, Yassen leaning to forward to catch Alex’s lips for a few moments before his harsh breaths forced them apart. 

Yassen’s fingers dug into Alex’s hair as his motions became shorter and shorter, like he was desperate to remain as close to Alex as possible while still chasing his release. Alex, happy to be of service, and unsure how long he would last, so deep into Yassen, reached between the two of them to find his cock.

Yassen batted his hand away with a small growl in a vain attempt to stretch their love-making longer, but after more than three months without even so much as a handjob, even he had to know it was a lost cause. Alex already felt his groin tighten with his impending orgasm, and he would be damned if he left Yassen high and dry.

Finding a solid hold on Yassen’s hips, Alex bucked up sharply to nail Yassen’s prostate and used the momentary diversion to spin the both of them around. Yassen landed on his back on the sofa, with Alex propped on top of him, grinning wildly.

Alex dipped to swallow all of Yassen’s breathless protests as he lifted his hips up with one arm, the other braced by Yassen’s head. Not wasting a second, he started pounding into the tight heat. Yassen’s deep groan vibrated between their two chests and Alex snapped his hips even harder.

Relenting to the inevitable, Yassen squeezed a hand between the two of them to grasp as his cock, stroking in time with Alex’s thrusts. Forehead against forehead, nose pressed against nose, they raced to their ecstasy, both determined not to come first.

Even after four years, Yassen’s ironclad self-control was still leagues beyond Alex’s and with a filthy moan that echoed in the room, and a final push that almost bent Yassen in half, Alex came, deep in his lover.

Ignoring the urge to crash down, he pushed a hand between them to help Yassen, tangling his fingers between his probably painfully tight grip to push him to his orgasm. Blue eyes wide, staring up at Alex in wonder, Yassen Gregorovich spilled all over both their chests.

Stillness.

Alex held himself above Yassen as long as he could, drawing out the last few beats of their embrace, before his softening cock slipped out, and he let himself fall, curling himself around Yassen, pressed into the back of the couch.

Yassen didn’t say anything, but then he rarely did, and simply brought their tangled fingers to a semen-free part of his abdomen. His thumb gently swept on the back of Alex’s hand, soothing and familiar.

Alex’s eyelids felt heavier and heavier for each of Yassen’s breaths, and he let himself slip-

“Alex.”

Disturbed from his half-sleep, Alex grunted inelegantly, opening his eyes just enough to peer at Yassen.

“I’m going to take a shower. I expect you to be in bed once I’m done.”

Groaning in protest, Alex grasped ineffectually at Yassen as he rose from the couch, but admitted defeat when his lover disappeared into the bathroom. Trudging to the bedroom, he finally started shedding his clothes, in shirt going first, followed quickly by his trousers, briefs and socks. Yassen would probably grouse about it come morning, but Yassen’s clothes were still in the living room, so Alex could honestly not give less of a toss. 

He had barely slipped under the covers when the water turned off. Yassen must be as eager for sleep and a cuddle as Alex was, and he didn’t even have the time to start drifting off again before Yassen appeared in the doorway, in all his naked glory.

Alex threw a hand towards him, beconing, and Yassen tangled their fingers together, allowing himself to be dragged into bed. 

* * *

Groaning into awareness in the morning light, Alex stretched spreadeagle, willing his limbs back to life. Yassen wasn’t in bed anymore, but that was hardly a surprise. The man slept much less than Alex, and they had agreed a long time ago they preferred to fall asleep together than waking together. Sometimes, he’d remain in bed and read, but not when Alex was already mildly sleep deprived.

A quick shower later, Alex trudged into the living room, wearing his briefs and nothing else. They had only their clothes from last night, and Alex’s were spotted with semen. Yassen could get away with wearing Alex’s clothes, but with his wider shoulders, Alex couldn’t.

Yassen was at the oven, fully dressed, in his tuxedo pants and somewhat crumpled shirt. Warmth and love weaving through his ribs, Alex padded to him. He plastered himself to Yassen’s back, tucking his chin over his shoulder, inhaling his clean, familiar scent.

“Good morning, Саша.”

Alex hummed happily in answer, untucking Yassen’s shirt to slip his hands under, resting his hands on the warm, soft skin of his torso.

Watching over the bacon he was pan-frying, Yassen was careful not to move, lest he dislodge his new backpack, and Alex kissed his neck in thanks.

“Crawley messaged, they got the targets they needed. They were brought to London for questioning early this morning.”

“Good. When can we leave?”

“Aren’t you worried about your  _ friends _ ?” Yassen asked, smirk obvious in his voice.

“Angelica will land on her feet.”

“What about Mrs Ainsworth?”

“I’m sure she’ll find another pretty bum to pinch as soon as someone bails her out.”

“So little sympathy for your fellows.”

Alex poked Yassen’s waist sharply. The man didn’t even have the grace to react.

“Are you calling me a gold-digger?”

“You played the role convincingly enough.” Yassen joked, pulling one of Alex’s hands to kiss his knuckles.

“I make a bigger salary than you.”

“I take you to the theater.”

“ _ You _ live in  _ my  _ house!”

“I introduced you to caviar.”

“Being a snob doesn’t make you a sugar-daddy!”

Yassen hummed skeptically with a faint smirk, turning his head to kiss Alex lightly.

“Maybe I should look into turning to freelance work, to finance your lavish lifestyle.”

“I’d have to stop you. That  _ would _ be my job. You know Mrs Jones would make me do it.”

“You could try.”

“You’ve taught me all your tricks, old man.”

“Have I?”

“Yup, I’d have you all nice and tied-up before you even got your first contract.”

“Is that so? Maybe I should really do it, then. Allow you to demonstrate all your knot prowesses.”

“You know you don’t have to commit crimes to get my attention, right?”

Turning off the gas, Yassen spun to face Alex, licking into his mouth.

“I thought Danger was your middle name?”

**Author's Note:**

> Well folks, this is the last of the planned instalments in this serie! I might come back to it if I get inspired, but it was all a lot of fun!
> 
> Let me know what you thought of it!


End file.
